Snow
by xXWishesxX
Summary: He hated snow, and there is always a reason. He had a new reason to hate snow now. Snow is white. White is the color of mourning or death in other countries, and that's what described Riza Hawkeye; she is dying. Rated T for blood. Happy Holidays!


Snow.

She hated snow.

Snow is cold and too much of a trouble to trudge through. All in all, she hated snow.

The color was the only thing she liked; white.

White is the color of pureness.

White is the color of innocence.

White is the color of peace.

White is the color of life.

White is the color that is stainless.

White is the color of mourning or death in other countries.

White is the color that described Riza Hawkeye.

She is pure.

She is innocent.

She wants peace.

She wants to live.

She is stainless.

She is dying.

As she laid there in the snow, she thought of her favorite color that was surrounding her, falling in frozen drops from the dark sky.

She thought white could never be tainted.

But as the red river flowed into the snow, she knew she was wrong.

It was only a few hours ago that she was in the warm comfort of Central Headquarters, idly working on paperwork. It was quiet in the office with only her and her Colonel there. In the other room, the rest of the Colonel's subordinates were working, occasionally chatting like old women about the Christmas tree in the corner of the room that brightened up the quaint area.

The two conversed, talking about the holidays and such. But the rest after that was blurry. She could remember stalking out of the room and out of the doors of Headquarters angrily. She tried to remember, but the more she concentrated, the more the snow became tainted with the color of red.

There was an argument; that was all she could conclude. She remembered the Colonel's glare and the icy tone he had used.

"_You can't save me Lieutenant, you can't even save yourself!"_

The words had hurt, she remembered. But the numbness that was slowly creeping up her body made her forget exactly _why_ she was hurt.

She sighed and then winced. Although the numbness was entering, she could still feel pain. Her senses were dulling, black spots disrupting her vision of the gloomy clouds, and distinctly heard the crackling of a fire somewhere. She also heard screaming and popping.

And then she heard it; a voice.

"_LIEUTENANT_!"

She recognized it, but couldn't believe it.

"_No, no, no- Hawkeye!_"

The voice was close, but the buzzing was making her hearing distorted.

"_Hawkeye!_"

A sparking touch on her cheek. Even though the temperature was freezing, the touch was so warm, and she found comfort in it.

"_Please, stay with me! You're my aide, aren't you?! What happened to staying by my side?!_"

No good. Even though the warmth was comforting, her senses were dulling. The black spots were covering her vision.

Despite her condition, she smiled and her lips parted and uttered a single word. Once she spoke, the owner of the voice breathe hitched and then replied.

"_RIZA_!!"

She wished she could see white, but darkness overtook her, slumbering into a dreamless state.

--------

_Three Hours Ago_

"I can't believe that they're actually this hyped up only because of the presents under the Christmas tree. I thought they were better than that." Colonel Mustang snatched another piece of paper from his pile and then signing it at a leisurely pace.

His Lieutenant had smiled. "It's the first time that Headquarters are celebrating the holidays. They're ecstatic that they're getting presents from their friends and families from so far away. They should be happy."

"If it wasn't because of the friends and families, I'd think they'd be happy to get gifts from Santa."

"It's the holiday of giving, sir. And I thought you didn't believe in Santa."

Roy smirked. "Just because I don't believe in him doesn't mean that they think the same."

The blonde raised a brow. "Do you hate Christmas as well?"

Roy frowned. "I'm not clearly fond of the holidays. Besides the scotch and such, no, I don't particularly like Christmas."

"May I ask why, sir?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, fiddling with his pen as he turned the chair around to stare at the falling snow. "Claus is supposed to grant wishes, right?"

"To those who believe in him, yes."

In the reflection, Roy's eyes narrowed. "Impossible. Claus is only a figment of imagination to children made by some moron. No one could grant wishes; alchemy is the closest thing to granting wishes. Claus is imaginary, just like god."

Silence enveloped them.

Roy's reflection raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

"You dislike Christmas…because of your belief of god?"

He turned back to look at his Lieutenant. "You sound like you disagree with my opinion."

She didn't say anything.

"Hmm," he hummed out. "I'm interested; what is your belief in god?"

Again, silence enveloped them for a moment.

"I....I'm not…god is a like desperate measure for people," she uttered. "If one was to be alone and not sure of what to do, or anything else, god would then seem like your closest friend. You'd have something to believe in, and some would go on because they believe something will happen in good fortune."

Roy scoffed. He knew more was to come, something that would surely-

"Even though you don't believe in him, there are others around that can help you."

"Are you saying that the people around me are like mini-gods?"

"No, I'm saying that you can rely on other people when you don't expect it."

Roy narrowed his eyes. "People can't always save others, Lieutenant."

"I-"

"You can't always be right. You can't always save people. In talking about this, you're practically saying that you can save me, Lieutenant."

"I am not saying-"

"I am always in the midst of hell and you're saying that you can help. Yet, as time passes, it seems that my place has buried itself even more into hell. You're wrong; you can't save me Lieutenant, you can't even save yourself!"

Silence overcame the room, but it was deathly tense. No sound could be heard from the other room as the Colonel glared at his lieutenant who had a placid expression on, yet her eyes showed otherwise. The clock in the room ticked slowly as the words dissolved.

The Lieutenant abruptly stood up from her desk, startling the man. Turning bout face, her jaw tightened as she spoke. "My apologies, sir, I am a poor excuse of being your aide." She saluted and then quickly left the room, the door shutting loudly behind her.

Poor excuse? Of course not! Where did she ever get that assumption?

Frustrated, he sat down and turned back to the window, glaring at the frozen raindrops.

_Three Hours Later_

It was near the time where work ended, yet his Lieutenant hadn't returned; her coat hanging on the coat hanger a definite reminder.

The emotion in her eyes before she left; he couldn't comprehend what it was. Sparks of guilt and anger had flashed through, but there was another emotion that was a mystery to him.

The clock tolled, indicating that it was exactly three hours after his Lieutenant had left the room. He sat with his arm on his desk, repeatedly tapping his pen while he looked out of the window. It seemed as if the snow was blowing even harsher than before, drumming against the stainless glass of his office and the night sky resembled a sign of mourning or death, which he hoped was untrue.

However, as he looked down out of his window, he distinctly saw a ball of red light.

Curious, the Colonel stood from his chair to get closer, trying to spot the gleaming light through the harsh, windy snow. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the source; a car overturned, bursting in flames.

With the sleek snow hammering itself onto the roads, how would there _not_ be a car accident? But he was still curious. He never heard of a car bursting in flames from skidding on black ice.

The door to his office suddenly slammed open, disrupting the Colonel's ponderings. Instead, his anxiety rose as he saw that it was Lieutenant Havoc, not his personal aide.

Havoc's hair looked as if it had been run through many times. He looked at his Colonel with panicked eyes. "Colonel, there's been a-"

"Car accident, yes, I know. Have there been any officers dispatched from the area?"

"Well, yeah but-" Roy cut him off with a dismissal wave of his hand.

"Then it's none of our business. Leave it to the other officers to handle it. Besides, you know that I hate the snow."

"But-"

"Its fine, Havoc, they could handle a simple car accident-"

"It's _NOT_ fine! It's _NOT_ a simple accident!"

Roy stopped and frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

Havoc whooshed out a quick breathe and continued. "Do you really think a car overturned and blew up in flames that big just because of skidding? The car that exploded is specifically designed for this kind of weather so the driver had no reason to flip over like he or she did unless he or she had a _reason_!"

"And what, daresay, was the-"

The Colonel was cut off as Fuery rammed into Havoc from behind, his glasses askew. Stumbling back, he grabbed a hold of himself before bursting out, "I just contacted with one of the medics; Lieutenant Hawkeye is in critical condition!"

Havoc sighed before looking at his Colonel who had a horrified expression on.

"_WHAT_?!"

He hated snow, and there is always a reason behind his hatred.

--------

Not bothering to take his coat, he raced out of the doors of Headquarters, quickly circling the building to the accident.

He didn't care that it was snowing.

He didn't care about the black patches of ice.

He didn't care how cold it was outside.

He _did_ care how cold he was beginning to feel at the possibility of his Lieutenant dying.

He spotted several medics kneeling down surrounding the crashed automobile, and then several others surrounding-

"LIEUTENANT!"

He skidded to her, knocking away a medic in his haste.

He always thought that seeing people dying in the war was the worst possible thing he could ever see, but seeing his Lieutenant placed first on his list.

"No, no, no- Hawkeye!"

Her hair was astray, fanning around her bloodied forehead and neck. The blood was surrounding her body, staining the snow quickly as it gushed. The worst part of this scene; her once bright, amber eyes were now a dull color, shifting side to side. His horrified eyes scanned her body, widening each time he spotted even more blood and injuries.

"Hawkeye!" He was desperate, eager to get a response from his aide. Ignoring the medics, he reached out and stroked her cheek. At the moment of contact, she twitched and her head moved in the slightest movement.

"Please, stay with me! You're my aide, aren't you?! What happened to staying by my side?!" Flashes of a telephone booth and spectacles ran through his mind, making him choke as he spoke.

He stroked her cheek once again, watching her eyes. The color in her eyes were dulling even further. Desperate and nearly sobbing now, he was about to cry out again but stopped as he unbelievably watched her mouth twitched into a small smile and then opened slightly, a single word gushing out in a whisper.

"_Roy_…"

His breathe hitched and choked back a sob. "RIZA!!" He brushed her bloodied hair back as he cried out.

It was when her eyes closed that the Flame Alchemist cried for another person that was close to him, dying in his arms.

It could have been hours or days or even years as the snow fell around him and his Lieutenant as he sobbed. It was as if his mind was a picture book; several images flashing through of his aide by his side, following his steps and being with him the entire way. He wished he could see her eyes before they were drowned in the emotions of guilt, anger, and the unknown.

He heard yelling that was slowly coming closer as he clung to his Lieutenant. Suddenly, time resumed and he was brought back to the present by arms wrenching him back, his grasp loosening by the shock of the forces. He struggled, trying to free himself to return to his spot by his Lieutenant, who was at the moment being placed on a stretcher by two medics.

It was as if he was blind, blind to anyone besides himself and his aide. He didn't care at how childish he was acting or the roaring of profanities he was throwing at the owner of the arms; all he cared about was his Lieutenant.

A sudden, forceful, harsh smack to his face brought him back to earth. He looked at the owner of the punch – Havoc. The Colonel had forgotten he was followed outside. Havoc's eyes were red, former streams were printed on his cheeks as he glared at his superior officer. Roy barely glanced back to see Breda and Fuery behind him, holding him back.

"_She's_. _Not_._ Dead_." Roy blinked, the tears nearly frozen on his lashes. Havoc continued. "She's not dead," Another punch to the face – his face was literally numb now from the cold and the force of the fist. "So quit acting like a damn pansy!!" Havoc roared out. "You think this isn't affecting us?!" Another punch. "IT IS!!" Another punch, slightly harder.

As Roy dropped his head, he could see Havoc's knuckles bruised and bleeding.

Havoc grunted. "She's not dead; the medics are taking her to the hospital. Once they patch her up, why don't you make up whatever you said to her? She looked pretty damn awful when she left the office.

He only half heard him; the blood on the snow was very distracting.

------

Two days now. She hasn't woken up for two days.

The doctor had said that she received a concussion and rib breakage and was put to heavy pain medication because of the loss of blood and major injuries. The car that had contact with her was simply doing a test drive, seeing how it would do in this kind of weather. However, the driver hadn't seen the Lieutenant until he had collided with her side. The man immediately jerked the steering wheel, swerving off to the side and onto a black patch of ice. It seemed that the car wasn't up to the skidding and twirling, as it had hit the curb and overturned.

The car didn't survive.

Neither did the driver.

Mustang couldn't help feeling smug, but then horrified at the thought of a person dying.

Especially since his Lieutenant was laying in bed, gauzed and IV needles everywhere.

For two days he hadn't left her side.

For two days he mourned.

For two days it had kept snowing.

He had a new reason to hate snow now.

Mustang held her hand the entire time she was hospitalized. He knew that it was his fault, somehow angering her – or something- and her strutting out of the office into the slippery outside.

Hell; it was Christmas Day. What a way to spend the holidays.

But he didn't argue. He didn't protest.

Hell; it was his _Lieutenant_ in the hospital.

He'd rather –or would always- choose staying with his Lieutenant instead of getting drunk off of eggnog with the boys.

'Course, he was tired, always nodding off.

The heart monitor had suddenly sped up a few beats. He worriedly looked at it in exasperation, frustrated that he couldn't do anything.

"You look like hell, sir."

He whipped his head back to the blonde whose eyes were now opened. Tired, but awake.

Happiness couldn't describe of what he was feeling at the moment; elated, maybe. "Lieutenant," He breathed out.

Hawkeye raised a brow. "Have you been getting any sleep at all?"

He couldn't help but quirk a smile. "You're the one in bed, hospitalized with gauze and needles covering your body and you're worrying about me?"

The words have struck her. She looked down, blinked, and then winced. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"I…" Riza frowned. "I remember we had some sort of spat, walking out of HQ, and then lying in the snow…and your voice."

Roy grimaced but nodded. "It was a man test driving a new car. He lost control of the car when he hit you and overturned. The car blew up."

She winced, the memories of a car with a horrified face behind the wheel colliding with her disparaging her head. "Oh," was her simple answer.

Silence enveloped them, reminding her of what _caused_ the accident. She could now remember why the words he had said so coldly effected her so because she wasn't numbed by snow. Riza felt a slight twitch in her left hand and she looked down, eyes widening as she saw her Colonel's hand in her own.

She began to pull away, but his grip on hers tightened.

"Can you answer one of my questions now?" Riza looked up to him, eyes curious as she looked at his crestfallen face.

"Of course sir, what is it?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "When you left, you looked…you looked as if I kicked your dog. Why did you leave? What were you feeling after I said those words?"

Riza looked down at their entwined hands. "I left because I had to think. When you said I couldn't protect you, not even myself…"

As she spoke, Roy inwardly winced. It _was_ his fault. He waited for her to continue, but she didn't. "…And? Out with it, Hawkeye. Don't make me order you." He teased, although he was intensely worried inside.

Her jaw tightened. "I felt as if I'm a failure as your aide. I have my own faults from the past and still not healed and like you said, if I can't save myself, how can I save you? If I can't get past my own problems, how am I supposed to help you through yours? By not being able to get through my problems, I can't fulfill my duty as your bodyguard because I might get distracted by my own judgments. I feel as if I can't do anything besides standing behind you and following your orders," She gushed out.

Mustang processed her words and then frowned. "You…you're saying that you're a failure as a bodyguard…because…" He then pursed his lips.

"HAH!" Riza jumped in surprise, her hand still in her Colonel's, the sudden outburst shocking her.

Her shock must've made him laugh even harder, for then he began to cackle, leaning to one side as Riza looked at him with wide eyes, confused at his behavior.

It seemed to go on for a few more minutes before she had enough. Clearing her throat, she frowned at him. "Are you done?"

He snorted out a few more before coughing, clearing his own throat. He smiled warmly at her, something that he hadn't done in a while. "You're so…so…so _adorable_, Riza."

…

_Adorable_?

"_Adorable_?" Her eye twitched, but she still blushed. "Why on earth would you say I'm adorable?"

"You're _adorable_ because of the way you think."

"Huh?" Was her brilliant reply.

His smile grew as he looked at their entwined hands. "You're doing much more than just following my orders, Riza. You're always by my side and helping me when I'm in dire trouble, or in any case in that matter."

She opened her mouth to speak, but Roy shook his head. "And when I said you couldn't save me, not even yourself…" He sighed. "I wasn't lying. Completely, at least."

He smiled. "You _are_ healing, Riza, and the more you heal, the more you're saving me," He paused, noting the blonde's confused expression. "What I'm saying is…when you heal or recover from something that happened in the past, I notice. I know what you've been through; I was with you most of the time. Seeing you being able to recover from something that you say you'd never forgive yourself shows me that I can also heal." If possible, his smile grew. "It shows me that even I, a murderer, can even save myself from the past. And you're there to help me. I wouldn't want anyone else than the woman I am in love with to help me."

Silence.

She stared at him with an awed expression. Honestly, she did NOT expect that confession.

She didn't think he expected that either because he suddenly flushed red, blabbering incoherent words. "I-that wasn't-I wasn't supposed-you-GAH!"

Riza had slapped him.

Roy brought his hand up to his cheek and stared at her in disbelief. "What was that for?"

Her lips twitched into a smile. "You're being a moron, Colonel." She then sighed and looked out the window. "If I didn't feel the same way, I would've probably shot you."

His eyes couldn't have possibly gotten wider, but they did at the mention of her loving him back and shooting him. He goofily grinned at her before leaning forwards, his lips pressing against her forehead softly and then sitting back, enjoying the flush blossoming on her cheeks.

Riza smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Merry Christmas, Roy."

Roy laughed and squeezed back. "Merry Christmas indeed."

He always hated snow because there was always a reason.

He said he disliked Christmas.

He never said he hated Christmas.

And neither did his beloved Lieutenant.

**A/N: **Um, it's been a while since I've read Fullmetal Alchemist, so I kind of forgot about Roy's beliefs, so sorry if it seems out of place. And if you strongly disagree about the section of where I described God, I'm really sorry. I didn't really know what to put, so I put this out. I am really, really sorry if you hate that part .

But other than the hate mail I might receive, I think this is one of my best one shot I've written so far!

And for **TFB**, I've written half of the chapter! Improvement!

For **SFFSFL**, a quarter of it done! Improvement!

For **BI**, none of it done! Improv- NO!

I hate school. Why can't they take out all of the learning?

I love Christmas, I really do and I wanted to get this out before the holidays.

Review! And Happy Holidays!


End file.
